


Soak It In

by imperiality (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explorations in Intimacy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-21 20:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/imperiality
Summary: Allura can do something sweet for Lance every now and again. She can draw him a bath, they can relax together. She can stretch a new boundary for him.





	Soak It In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strawberrylovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrylovely/gifts).



> Okay, so I know how the summary wording sounds. No, there are no sexy times. (Fluffy, just how you like it, Nat c:) I'm sorry it can't be any fluffier. You know me. We have to have this conversation at least twice a week.
> 
> Enjoy! And, Merry Christmas!!

_I can do something for Lance every now and again._

It starts with an idea. She gets in a certain kind of mood on a dull kind of day.

_Lance said he only had to work for a half-day today._

Allura has the entirety of Christmas Eve off, but without Lance, the day has been moving so slow. So slow. She’d wish for snow. She’d wish for noise, she’d wish for motion, but why? She’d liking the silence. She’s liking the sill. (But yet, she’s hating the wait.)

The more she sits in the silence, the more she’s liking this idea of hers.

Outside, the sky is grey. The creeping chill is slipping through the cracks of the apartment; the seams of her clothes. The TV is a hushed, hushed dim around the room but silence is sweeping.

Warmth is soon to come their way. Allura will be its catalyst.

It stars with a bouquet. 

Actually, that might not be enough. Make that 2. And a half? Maybe some carnations might be good, too. Temptation leads her to buy near half the flower display when she thinks she finally has enough. She carries them all home, puts them on the table to take off her coat, then _rips_ off the petals from the stems. No! No, she mustn’t. Gentle, gentle Allura. She’ll pluck the blood red roses, sex pink carnations and scatter them everywhere everywhere. 

She piles them high right in front of the bathroom door. Sifting them through her fingers, she throws them down in a path leading from the front door, thence. As she sprinkles them about, she just wants to gather them up in her hands again and dance under a flowerfall. But no, no. She mustn’t. She has to save some for the bathroom itself.

“Lance comes home in… half an hour! Already!”

Frantically, Allura unties her hair. _Wait. No. Opposite effect needed._ She reties it, re-glances at the clock and reorganizes her priorities. She can’t draw the bath yet. She can’t undress yet.

She can set the mood.

Pull the mini-speaker from their room is the final setup Allur thinks it needs. Suffusing the muffled voices betwixt the silence is no difficult task. Glancing to her feet, looking from the front and bathroom doors, she admires her handiwork. The saturated petals leave an aromatic path that she can only barely help herself from traipsing between. From the sink counter, easy, lonely jazz scrapes the softest surface of noise. There’s just only one thing missing. Of this Allura is sure.

_Candles!_

Even though she pulls every tea, decorative and vanilla bean candle they have into the bathroom, it still doesn’t feel like enough. When she’s done lighting them, she sighs. _Yes. That’s enough._ It’s _more_ than enough. It’s more than bright. It’s warm, cozy, romantic. It smells divine.

T-minus ten. 

_Now for the good stuff._ You know. Besides Allura, herself.

She draws the bath. She adds the oil. She throws in more petals, turns off the tap and _Would you look at that._ With all good fortune, Lance should be strolling through the doors in about 5 minutes. _The water will still be hot._

Allura divulges herself. She’s in no particular rush. Languidly, softly she slips off her blouse. Slides off her pants. She sinks under the water, and breaths in _d e e p_. Her mind is swimming in floral wake, vanilla incandescence. She wants her lover to swim in her.

Ah. Speaking of which.

A key jostling in a slot. A doorknob turning. A swift step entering, Lance calls out “Allura? Babe? You there?” He waits a second. Where… could she be? He takes a step to investigate, when something soft bends under his foot. “What the-“ and sees all the flower petals. Oh. Okay. That’s new. Not that he’s complaining or anything, far from it. “‘Lura?” Delicately stepping around the path, he follows the flowers to the door. Pushing it open so _so slowly-_

“Hey-“

“I’m in here,” Allura says.

Mmm. It’s less of a “say” and more of a “beckon”. Less of a “beckon”, more like a “pull”. Less like a “pull” and most like a _siren song._ Lance happily succumbs.

When he steps over the bathroom threshold he spots the candles. _Ooh, nice._ He continues to step over the hoards of petals, breathing in all the aromas. _What am I supposed to be paying attention to, first?_ Then sitting sweetly, beautifully, _nakedly_ in the tub is-

“Allura? What’s up, babe?” 

“Lance.” She sighs, leaning up to his blessedly tender (albeit confused) kiss to her forehead. “You’re finally home.” Now it’s time to elucidate.

But poor Lance. He simply inclines his head towards the flourishes around the room, saying “This is kind of nice, honey. Is there… is there a special occasion?” Is there something he’s missing? Fear flashes across his face for a half-second before Allura puts him at ease.

“No, no special occasion,” the woman smiles. “I guess I got in a little mood. I wanted to pamper myself, I wanted to do something nice for you. What do we think?” She opens out her arms, then deftly, Lance takes hold of her wrists. He traces his nose, lips, face up her fingers, wrist and arm. He breathes her in, this time. 

“I think I love it.”  Lance smiles back. “May I join you?”

And which mortal among her can say no to a low voice whispered hotly in their ear? If Allura is a siren, Lance too must be some other kind of creature from the Deep.

It’s a shame he hasn’t joined her at this point, already. Eagerly she bids, “please do.”

So after a quick rinse in the guest shower, the unladen man undresses before Allura. He kisses her nose for permission. He slinks beneath the water in coalescing. They arrange their bodies to get comfortable while Lance gets accustomed to the feeling of water, flowers and Allura slipping all about him. He settles in, wrapping Allura above and around himself. _This,_ he really thinks, _is nice._

It doesn’t stop being nice for a long time. As they sit together under the water, the radio plays on. The candles flicker on. They talk on.

They keep it light. Lance talks about his doldrum day at work. Allura talks about her silver day staying home. Their world and sensations are condensed to the room around them. (Lance’s; Allura above him.) Together, they’re enjoying the warmth seeping into their pores. Lance in particular is enjoying the discrepancies of the warmth of the water as opposed to his lady love. Most of all, he's enjoying the ability to embrace her body _at all_.

Not that he hasn't seen Allura naked before (thank goodness.) Not that he hasn’t held her skin against his and traced it merry till the day is long but- they. They don’t do it a lot. Not “a lot” as far as other couples go, and “not nearly enough” as far as Lance is concerned. Whenever they get to share each other like this, though? He’s learned to throw himself head-first in the moment.

He doesn’t think he can wrap himself close enough to her. She’s already between his legs, but it’s not enough! He gathers her long hair and pushes it all to her left shoulder. Lance pulls his arms tighter just below her breasts. He leans his chin over her right shoulder, and peppers kiss after kiss after kiss to her neck. 

_She isn’t nearly as tense as she is when I do that_. Kissing is always a hit or miss with Allura. _As a matter of fact, she isn’t tense at all._ Which should be a good sign, but not when her breathing is getting ever so harder. And not in the sexy way.

Lance lifts his lips to hover just behind her ear. “Is this alright?”

Allura inhales deeply. That is either a very, very good or very, very bad sign. The trepidatious man waits to cast his bets. 

With a glittering, the woman looks over her shoulder to glance between his own eyes and mouth. Her expression is almost coquettish. Coquettish? 

Yes. It is. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

And _damn_ if what she’s doing isn’t working on Lance.

She says while her captive gaze fetters him, “Do you think, maybe. Maybe we could, I don’t know? Try something new?”

He’s always down for something _new_. “What’s it, ‘Lura?”

She wraps her hand around his chin. “Bring your lips closer here.”

W o w. That is definitely new. For sure.

Because, not for all the months that they’ve been dating has he savored her lips against his. _Not for lack of trying_! But every time he even swung his head close to hers, she would kindly push his away or turn hers first. It wasn’t a big, _huge_ deal but. So. Lance has been going months without kissing the love of his life, right? He’s been able to behold all of her nude glory, (which priority he finds odd sometimes, but he’s not going to gripe about _that_.) but not her mouth. 

It wouldn’t be a huge deal if they’d have kissed months ago. It wouldn’t be a huge deal if he hadn’t seen her body so many times before. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal if he couldn’t count in quantifiable hours just how much he’s fantasized this very thing.

But since they _haven’t_ , and he _has_ , and he _can_ , her initiation is a Very Huge Deal indeed.

The split-second before her lips meet his, Lance backs up just a hair. “Are you sure about this? Are you comfortable? I don’t want to breach your boundaries-“

“Lance.” Her gaze is pinning and he shuts his mouth right up. (All he wants it is _on hers_.)  She continues. “I told you I wanted to do something nice for you today. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a little trepidatious, but… I think this is a boundary I’m willing to stretch.” Allura leans back in. “I think it’s about time. Don’t you?”

_Yes,_ he thinks it is. He finds no fault in her reasoning, and gets to work.

Pushing himself to lean back against the far wall, he guides Allura fully over his hips. He fans her hair behind her, watching as it floats just above the water. Letting his eyes trail back up her dark skin, he takes his sweet time gazing at her hips, her thin waist, her full breasts. Her wide-blown eyes.

She leans back down to meet him, and his warmth seeps inside _out_. At first, only the brush of her exhale meets Lance. Then, the moisture of her gasp. _Then,_ the press of her kiss.

Immediately, Lance is humbled. In all of his wildest fantasies, he never could have imagined lips this soft. Gently he wraps his hands around the lady’s waist. (For one reason- to feel her all. The other? To slow himself down.)

He drinks in her sigh and tastes her smile. That can be enough for him, now. He relinquishes the kiss back to her.

Apparently not quick enough. Before he can stop himself, he slips out an effervescent “ _I love you_.”

It opens the floodgates.

Gripping either sides of his jaw, Allura dives in and kisses with her all. She’s going to kiss him silly. 

_I’m kind of hoping she_ devours _me._

Lance is having trouble focusing on the kiss when so many of her parts are in contact with his. Her thighs are pushing hotly down on his. Her stomach, boobs and hair are all weighing against him. Her lips incendiary are kissing his like a forest fire and Lance’s mind is lost.

Lost.

He’s lost in the way she’s keeping it closed-mouthed for now, but is fighting between her want and her ability to handle more. The poor boy is lost in the way everything in his body is telling him _more,_ but everything in his head is telling him _slow._  

He’s lost in the way Allura’s desperation is making him feel. He’s lost in the vocality of her raising passions.

He’s lost in the feeling of her lips against his. _Finally._ If he’s lost? He wants no other feeling to be lost in.

Allura keeps catching, catching, catching him. He’s baiting himself to be caught. He his fully acquiescent to the whims of his girl, and he likes it.

He loves it.

He loves her.

And even long after the water runs cold. Long after they’ve massaged the oil into each others’ skin and digressed once again under the covers. Long after Allura has fallen asleep with Lance next to her, _he_ can still feel the pulling of her lips against his.

He can still feel the tingle of sensation.

He can still feel the giddiness. of a new boundary being breached. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> terribly sorry for the unbeta'dness. you know me  
> lonv uuuuu :D :D


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